


Stuck with you.

by smartforholmes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Greg is Sweet, John is a Saint, M/M, Mycroft is a Softie, Sherlock Being a Drama Queen, Slow Dancing, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:34:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27108823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smartforholmes/pseuds/smartforholmes
Summary: On their way to Sherlock and John's reception, Mycroft and Greg get stuck inside a lift.Based on Mystrade Monday Prompt #12 “Can I kiss you?”
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 145





	Stuck with you.

“You have to be _fucking_ kidding me,” Greg swears as the lift stops abruptly, looking at the man beside him.

Mycroft decided to join Greg on his way to the reception of Sherlock and John's wedding on the Savoy, sponsored by himself, taking the lift as the fastest way.

And now they were stuck.

_Stuck together._

_Stuck inside a very,_ **_very_ ** _small place._

**_So bloody small._ **

“Mycroft?” The silver-haired man asks, acknowledging how out of sorts his companion was. “You okay?” The elder Holmes nods as he swallows down a huge wave of nausea.

“Perfectly, Detective Inspector, hardly uncomfortable by the situation

But Gregory's glance doesn't stop, making him feel vulnerable and defenseless like an open book.

“You don't look okay, you look like you're about to freak—” In that exact moment, a realization hit Greg like a bus. “Are you claustrophobic?” His question is answered by the elder Holmes's face going pale, his body trembling slightly.

“Greg—” Mycroft's knees buckle, and Gregory race towards him, catching him as he falls.

“Hey! Are you all alright? Here, let me—” The DI lowers them to the floor, sitting with his back against the walls of the lift. “Is that better?”

Lestrade's arms are strong, and Mycroft finds himself melting into the warmth the man emits, the protection and safety his single presence spreads out. So he just restricts himself to a tiny nod.

“I'm terribly sorry, Inspector, for such inconveniences.” Mycroft chokes out, his voice muffled by Greg's jacket. “Claustrophobia is—”

“Hush, now,” The older man murmurs, his lips close, _so_ close to his hair that Gregory's warm breath kiss his skin. “I can stay here for a lifetime.” And he kisses his forehead. Quick, unpredictable but comforting.

The elder Holmes hides on the crook of Greg's neck, closing his eyes trying to control his unstable breathing. His mind is blank, both due to fear and nervousness as he was cradled by his a–decade–now platonic love.

A comfortable silence fills the small lift, the only audible noise is their breathing; calm and unstable. Just then, Mycroft feels Lestrade's chest vibrate as he begins humming a song quietly.

_“So, lock the door and throw out the key; can't fight this no more, it's just you and me,”_ His voice, deep and raspy due to the low tone, is probably the 8th Wonder of the World. _“And there's nothin' I, nothin' I, I can do, I'm stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you.”_

“The lyrics are everything but wise at the moment, Inspector,” Mycroft tries to lessen the deep mood, only to almost be sent to panic again.

Gregory's soft laugh makes him smile as well, so he just snuggles closer to his torso. _”So, go ahead and drive me insane; baby, run your mouth, I still wouldn't change,”_ Mycroft feels how Gregory rocks him gently, his fingers now stroking the thin hair on his neck. _“Being stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you”_

**For the first time in several years, Mycroft's chest expanded with unexplainable love and desire.**

_“I'm stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you, baby—”_ Gregory's wonderful singing is interrupted by the sound of the lift's door opening forcefully, John's face peeking inside.

Both man freeze and the Doctor can't help the smile that shapes his lips. “Okay, lovebirds, let's get you out of here.”

≈

2 hours, 57 minutes, and 21 seconds later, they are sitting next to each other beside the dance floor, two glasses of scotch placed neatly in front of them.

And then, a soft ballad echoes in the Ballroom, Gregory immediately stares at Mycroft with a smile that could light up the entire place. The older man holds out his hand slowly.

“What are the odds, Mr. Holmes? The very same song I sang to you in the lift.” Mycroft blushes and slowly reaches towards his partner's hand. “May I have this dance?”

They both walk to the center of the dance floor, hand in hand, a huge grin painting their factions. The attention is immediately focused on them, Sherlock and John joining the surprised gazes.

Once they are standing face to face, Gregory's left-hand holds Mycroft by his waist as the right grasps his hand tightly. On the other side, the elder Holmes drops his right hand on Lestrade's shoulder, looking at him with glossy eyes and a timid smile.

The rhythm is slow, romantic, and they move according to the music, bypassing the public that is gathering around them. Mycroft's blue orbs are glued to Gregory's deep brown eyes, and the smile never departs his face.

Their intimate moment is interrupted by John's extremely loud whistle, causing an erratic cheer by the attendees. Mycroft almost wishes to disappear as he attempts to let go of Gregory. Only to be stopped by those strong arms that guard him against any harm.

“Where're you going, darlin’?” The DI whispers in his ear, sending an electric shock through his spine. The elder Holmes can only hide his face on Greg's neck, his hands now grasping his back.

“I got you, I'm right here,” Big and strong handds hold his waist, and Mycroft permits himself to calm down under Lestrade's hold. They dance for a little while, and as the bridge starts, shouting can be heard from the back of the crowd.

**_“Kiss him!”_** The voices, later recognized as Molly and Anthea yell, and are soon enough followed by everyone.

With everyone shouting at the top of their lungs, Mycroft lifts his face, looking at Gregory's handsome face and getting closer. A hand rests on his jaw, tracing it with its thumb slowly.

Sharing the same breath, Gregory asks, his voice formed by a whisper. “Can I kiss you?”

_And there's nothin' I,_ **_nothin' I'd rather do_ **  
_I'm stuck with you, stuck with you,_ **_stuck with you_**

Amid the final chorus, Mycroft's lips are covered by Gregory's in a slow and soft kiss. The government official's hand grips the opposite neck, pulling him closer whilst Lestrade caressed his cheek and hug him close.

Sherlock almost complains, just to be stopped by his now-husband Captain John H. Watson, his open palm positioned on Sherlock's chest.

“Oh, no. Don't you dare, let them have their moment.” John says and chuckles at the indignation painted on the younger Holmes brother's face.

A blush spreading on his cheeks, Sherlock argues. “But, it's _sickening,_ John! How could they do this to me?” Sherlock frowns at the sight of his brother's and Lestrade's foreheads pressed together as they smiled.

“Let's say... _Someone_ stuck them together on that lift...” John smiles, winking at Molly and Anthea from afar.


End file.
